


In this body I’m fighting the two of us

by kecchan



Category: Prototype (Video Games)
Genre: Character Study, Existential Crisis, Gen, Overuse of italics, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 22:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15180404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kecchan/pseuds/kecchan
Summary: The existence of Alexander J. Mercer was stuck on the Virus, no cure strong enough to heal it and no scalpel sharp enough to remove it.





	In this body I’m fighting the two of us

**Author's Note:**

> so I had this abandoned wip from like 2015 and the time has come to recycle it now. and boy, it was fun finally finishing it
> 
> enjoy!

Of all the things the Virus, Alex Mercer didn't understand, the man who created him, the real Mercer was the biggest puzzle.

Humans were weird and confusing, unique and terrible, simple and so complicated. Everything at once.

The encounters he has had with them made him realize one thing: they would do anything if the price was high enough. Fame, money, power - the only thing that seemed to matter to them. They would lie, steal, kill, _die_ for these, it’s coded in their genes, and the _Virus_ had to understand this; he had to feel it.

After all, he was the same. He had stolen, lied, hurt, killed to get where he was now, to get closer to the _only thing_ that mattered to him. In a way, he was nothing _more_ than a human, giving up himself for revenge and revenge only. The thought itself was like a thousand burning needles piercing his head.

And yet, even now he couldn’t figure out the moving force behind Mercer’s actions. Hundreds, thousands of memories echoing in his head, yet he couldn't understand it, he couldn't understand anything that happened and he was reaching his limits. God, he was so tired of this.

With a sigh he picked up another piece of paper.

From all the information he had gathered, the scientist seemed quite the lone wolf type. Cold, arrogant, distant, aggressive - traits both the human and the virus had possessed, and the thought of sharing anything else than a name and a face with the human who created this mess made his stomach turn; it was like cancer. The existence of Alexander J. Mercer was stuck on the Virus, no cure strong enough to heal it and no scalpel sharp enough to remove it.

Not that he had a choice. Even if he would disguise himself as someone he had reluctantly consumed, it would soon dissolve - and after a while he would see the face of Mercer in the mirror again. Those blue eyes would stare back at him, cold and merciless, and God knows it wouldn’t be the first time that the virus would destroy whatever surface showed his reflection.

His headache worsened.

He threw the poorly clipped papers away, letting them fly around, stirring up the dust in the room.

Maybe he _didn't want to_ know more about the man. Even this little knowledge he had was more than enough for him, he could deal with it in other ways---

 _'No, no. It's fine. I will get there.'_ With this thought, he snapped back, picking up the papers yet again. He must have missed something. Something obvious.

So many familiar faces, names he had already heard before, piles of seemingly useless information, but nothing about him, nothing about Mercer. It was tiring. Days, weeks passed and nothing had happened, every suspect he consumed turned out to be useless. Marines shouting at each other, scientists testing medicine, a low-class employee being sacked, a mother crying in front of her child, needles piercing veins and glasses being broken, joy, laughter, a knife against a neck, pain and love and blood; pointless memories filling his head, the noise almost unbearable, the images burning behind his eyelids and a headache like a thousand burning _knives_ \----

He had to end this quickly.

He got up, a pile of papers falling from his lap. It felt bizarre. For him to do this, investigating, reading papers for hours, it felt almost degrading. Sitting miserably on the floor at his sister's safehouse (Dana wasn’t _his_ sister. She was a coincidence, a stranger. And yet she helped him - and he had to trust her.), printed files and photographs all around him he just couldn’t get his racing mind to calm down.

Alex didn’t notice Dana enter. Not until she was standing right in front of him, considerate enough not to step on an already worn folder full of research results.

“You should take a look at this. Might be useful.”

With this she handed him a single photograph. A man. Bald, white, his facial expression that is impossible to read and a hard-to notice scar running along his neck. And he was standing right next to Mercer, both carrying Gentek passes.

He knew the man. He knew he did, he had seen him in so many memories - but always in the background, hidden and seemingly insignificant.

But he was there.

And it seemed that Alex _did_ miss something so obvious.

“I take you know what to do.”

“I do.”

He got up, holding tight onto the photograph. Finally, something’s happening. Finally a step forward, finally something clear and straightforward. _Finally_ something that would lead him to Mercer.

“Do you know his name?” There was something like concern in Dana’s voice. She seemed tired too.

“I have my ways.” That was all he could force out of himself. He couldn’t let frustration take over him now.

“I had no doubts about that. I will try to find something useful on him.”

Alex nodded and took his way to the door. He was relieved Dana didn’t force the conversation any further; that question was almost enough to throw him off.

He stopped for a moment. Grunting, he turned his head in the direction of the cracked mirror next to the door, sharing a quick and hateful enough look with his reflection.

Even as he closed the door behind himself, he could feel those cold, blue eyes staring at him. They will always be watching him.

But soon Alex will be ready to stare back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> the fandom might be dead but my love for Alex Mercer? it's eternal baby


End file.
